


Just What I Needed, More Than I Wanted

by UnluckyWrench



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Mating, Angel Wings, Fix-It of Sorts, Gabriel Lives, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Reminiscing, Soul Bond, Tickling, Trust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2018-12-20 01:42:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnluckyWrench/pseuds/UnluckyWrench
Summary: Their relationship started with pain and mistrust, then grew to be something neither of them were expecting.A story of gentle torment, love, and literal fluff.**Updating/Revising**New/Revised first chapter id uploaded.  Will be updating each chapter, then finishing it. :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revised - 7/10/18

“Are you shitting me with this? A fifty-page treatise on how to raise a cherub?” Gabriel chirped in disbelief.  He pulled the thick rimmed reading glasses down his nose then exhaled harshly.  “I mean…cliff notes, man.  They’re tiny!”

Gabriel hated working late, but when you have all of Heaven to supervise, it couldn’t be helped.  He sat in bed, propped up against the headboard, reviewing documents on an iPad.  Working late sucked, paperwork sucked, but it was a small price to pay to keep everything running smooth. 

The bureaucracy of Heaven and its tasks, calculated to the smallest quantum detail, was a comfort to most angels, who thrived on order and duty.  But not Gabriel. 

He became bored very easily.  Gabriel, the good-hearted rebel, one of God’s fiercest weapons, had the attention span of a hummingbird on crank. He was a being of purest energy who could summon matter with a gesture, yet he had trouble paying attention during an hour-long meeting.  It was one of his many “human qualities”, as his siblings had taken to calling it.

Before he skipped out on Heaven, Gabriel had already acquired a reputation for his infatuation with the humans.  He admired humanity, was awed by them in a way few angels could understand (save one little brother in a trench coat). In his time on Earth, Gabriel had picked up a lot of their traits including impatience and libidinousness.  Yet, his siblings agreed that there was something more to Gabriel now that he had returned to them, something cultivated and fresh.

He adapted to situations that he didn’t like, learned to cope and make them work instead of putting them off or running away.  He was no longer merely Heaven’s weapon; he was their brother, their leader.

His love of mankind gave him a reputation before he left Heaven, and now that he’d returned, he was all too happy to live up to it.  He did things differently than his big brothers and brought humanity to Heaven.  And while, yes, there was still more rigid bureaucracy than he’d like, it was necessary. 

“I’m going to smite them.  I’m going to smite them all,” he grumbled, putting his glasses back on and getting back to work.  Literal millennia of backlogged reports to go through, and he still barely made a dent.  It was going to be a long night. 

An amused question roused him from his grumpiness.  “Is there a section about how to avoid their hugs?”

The only thing making this whole thing bearable was who he was sharing a bed with.  Across the bed, reclining on a giant mound of downy pillows, was a half-naked Sam Winchester. 

He was laying back, arms folded, fingers laced across his stomach with his bare feet resting in Gabriel’s lap.  He looked so much like the picture of comfort, lazing only in soft gray sweatpants, that you’d never know he was being held there by the archangel’s grace.

“Still not over that, are you?” asked Gabriel, as he finished reading the report (thank you, angelic speed reading powers).

“What can I say?  Not a fan of naked angel hugs.”

“Pfft.  That’s a lie and you know it,” Gabriel scoffed, going to his next report.

Sam seemed to consider this a moment, “Yeah.  I mean, Inias is pretty dreamy.”

Gabriel smirked predatorially at Sam over the top of his iPad and wiggled the fingers of his free hand, making a show of slowly moving the hand down toward Sam’s feet.  Sam squirmed attempting to free his trapped feet, but there was no urgency behind it, as evidenced by the silly grin on his face. 

It was all part of their game.  When one of them had to work late or had a tough research session, the other offered to keep them on track.  Sam’s version usually involved Gabriel agreeing to playact as the judge or opposing lawyer on the case he was working on.  Gabriel’s needs were always more physical.

“What was that, Sammykins?  Couldn’t hear you.” Gabriel chided, spidering his fingers along Sam’s tender arches.  Sam, unable to move away, scrunched up his soles attempting to protect himself. 

“I’m kidding, you asshole,” Sam barked out with a stunted chuckle as he felt the grace tighten around his limbs, both restraining him and keeping watch over his body to avoid exhaustion.  Gabriel let this little insult go unpunished and rubbed the ticklish tingles away with the flat of his hand.  Sam relaxed and lay back against the pillows.

With a satisfied grin on his face, Gabriel went back to his reports with Sam, his own personal stress ball.

Another hour passed with relatively few boredom tickles (thanks to a batch of reports from Balthazar likening one of Heaven’s weapons to a “giant horny gorilla with a mean streak”).  Balthazar’s reports were always brief and amusing, but Gabriel felt off.  His back was stiff, and his wings ached.  He chocked it up to all the flying he’d done that day (three laps around the world to work off some nervous energy after his meeting with Crowley). 

He unfolded his wings in a close pocket dimension.  There they could be out to stretch but were hidden. He gave a small, experimental flap and a gust of wind blew Sam’s hair around.

“Thanks for helping me with my homework, Sammy,” Gabriel said with a contented groan.

“No problem, Gabe.  We almost done for the night?”

“Only one more report and then bedtime, I promise.”

“Fine,” Sam sighed, shooting Gabriel a bitch face. “But only one more.  I have to get up early for a deposition tomorrow.”

“Do I hear a grouchy moose?”

Whatever Sam was going to respond with broke away into a high-pitched whine when Gabriel wormed his fingers between Sam’s toes.  Gabriel’s newly freed wings, reacting to the shrillness of Sam’s laughter, unfurled and poised to protect or ward of an attacker.  The angel sighed at his body’s automatic response, thankful Sam couldn’t see it.  It was embarrassing that whenever he was with Sam his vessel and his true form reacted in ways completely beyond his control.  It made him feel like a blundering fledgling again.

As he slowed the assault on Sam’s toes, he gazed appreciatively at Sam, letting his eyes linger over the expanding chest and messy hair.  He smiled warmly as he drove the human crazy.  Gabriel loved how strong Sam was; strong physically, mentally, and emotionally.  It’d taken months of light touches and gentle coaxing to get Sam to trust him like this (and even longer for Gabriel to trust Sam fully).  Trust was a hard road, particularly given their history. 

Years ago, after Gabriel showed up at their motel after the events of the Elysium Fields Hotel, so low on grace that he was nearly human and at the mercy of the physical needs of his damaged vessel, it was Sam who cared for him.  Sam was the one who cleaned him, stitched him up, and kept him alive.  Yes, Dean had helped, but he had a chip on his shoulder the size of a Buick.  It was Sam who did the brunt of the work, giving up his sleep and time for Gabriel.

With his cover was blown, he wasn’t welcome among the pagans anymore.  In one night, he’d lost two families and was broken.  As he recuperated, Sam suggested he stay with them, to help put the world right and stop his brothers.  Dean allowed him to stay with them, at least until he recovered his grace, so long as he was useful.  Having no other place to go, Gabriel joined Team Free Will.

He made his choice and was ready to help stop the Apocalypse.  He proved to be a fount of knowledge, and even using some of his pagan skills to help them get jump on baddies.  Dean was wary but thankful and showed it in his usual gruff way.  Castiel was more measured in his interactions, not fully understanding or trusting Gabriel at first.  It hurt, but under the circumstances, he understood. 

Sam was always there for him, though.  Through the tough hunts and marathon research sessions, through botched pranks and angry interviews, Sam became his constant companion.  They developed a friendship based on annoying Dean and kicking evil’s ass. 

Over time, and with no small amount of patience, Gabriel was finally accepted by Dean and forgiven by his little brother.  With Castiel’s moderating influence, Dean’s brutal honesty, and Sam’s damnable logic, Gabriel fully recovered.  As he got stronger, so did their bond.

But even after months of living and working together, Gabriel still didn’t understand why.  Why was he accepted? When his powers were finally restored, as they were formulating the plan of attack after getting the rings of the Horsemen, Gabriel had to ask. 

“Sam,” he asked, etching Enochian wards onto some chains, “Not that I’m not grateful or anything, but what gives?  I mean, yeah, I’m hot and an absolute joy to be around, but why have you been so…nice to me?  You, of all people!  You’re not mad over…you know?”

Sam puzzled with his hazel eyes peeking through shaggy hair. “Dude, that’s all in the past.  You almost died for us,” he huffed, curling his lips into a terse smile and putting hand out to squeeze Gabriel’s shoulder.  “I forgave you a long time ago.”

And that was the start of everything they had built together.

Back in the present, Gabriel moved onto a report from Joshua about the growth of lichen and it was just as interesting as it sounds.  By the second paragraph, Gabriel’s fingers began scratching at a furious pace; by the third page, Sam had been reduced to a rosy cheeked ball of giggles.

He swirled his finger in nonsense patterns across the ball of Sam’s foot, as his grace pulled his toes back, exposing a smooth, uninterrupted expanse of ticklish flesh.  If not for the invisible bonds of grace, Sam would be fighting the angel off with everything he had.  Instead, the hunter could do nothing more than wiggle pitifully and laugh.

“Five pages about chlorophyll? Who does that!” Gabriel complained.  Sam’s laughter was getting a breathless, so Gabriel let up a little and forced oxygen into his cells.  He stretched his shoulders a bit, still feeling that ache in his wings.  It almost felt like molting season was about to start, but it was too early for that.

“Can we hurry this up?” Sam asked, panting.  He tried to blow strands of sweaty hair from his eyes but only succeeded in making more fall into his face.

Gabriel snickered and slowly dragged his blunt fingernails along the rough skin of Sam’s tootsies.  It was a very soft gesture that under normal circumstances would barely make Sam flinch, but Sam’s nerves were on fire after hours of being Gabriel’s “research assistant”.  He gave a full body shudder and let out a sound that was mixture of an exasperated laugh and an interested moan that made Gabriel drop the iPad.

“Shit,” Sam yelped when he saw that look Gabriel was giving him.  That’s the look Gabriel had when he realized there was a second layer of chocolates in the box: the fun’s just beginning.

Gabriel’s full attention was on Sam now as he used both hands to tease.  Each breathy chuckle he coaxed out of him made Gabriel’s grace pulse with happiness. Coils of grace embraced Sam all over his body, comforting and warm, as Gabriel’s hands continued with his feet. His wings, still in their invisible pocket dimension, circled the bed, hiding Sam away from Heaven. 

“Sam, honey.  You keep distracting me,” Gabe cooed, letting up on the tickling and pinching each of Sam’s toes.  “I’m trying to work, you know.”

“You keep torturing me” Sam chuckled, toes curling in a vain attempt to escape Gabe’s nimble fingers.

“Ha!  As if,” Gabriel quipped with a dangerous glint in his eye. “If I wanted to torture you, you’d know it.”

“P-Prove it,” Sam stuttered out, biting his bottom lip.  A brief look of excitement passed over Sam’s face but was quickly hidden away. 

_Paperwork be damned_ , Gabriel thought.

He smirked and made himself comfortable on the bed before looking straight into Sam’s soul. It was bright and vibrating with excitement.  Gabriel licked his lips as his eyes lit up with a golden light for a moment.  His wings flared around them, held high and intimidating.  He stayed quiet, hands in his lap, as one loan tendril of grace slithered up Sam’s trapped foot. 

Sam squeaked as the grace branched out and tickled each nerve individually.  The warning shot was fired, and now more tickling grace took up real estate on Sam’s feet and legs.  Satisfied, Gabriel crossed his arms behind his head and watched the show. 

A long tentacle of grace buzz and vibrated behind Sam’s knees the grace vibrated, teasing the sensitive skin while Gabe coolly calculated how long he could keep Sam like this.

“Nohohoho!” Sam shouted, redoubling his efforts to get away, but in their hearts, they both knew Sam loved this.  His soul was a flaring diamond at this point, alive with that playfulness that Sam had hidden away for so long.  He loved the attention, the caring, and mischievous fun of his trickster angel.  Sam craved to be the one who cared for and that’s what Gabriel did.

He fights so hard, Gabriel thought, admiringly.  He is a pillar, fighting for everyone, and never giving up.  That’s why moments like this were so special to Gabriel. 

Sam Winchester, the boy who’d been screwed by destiny for so long, who’d had mountains of crap dumped on him (sometimes from well-meaning, but completely incorrect sources), gave himself over to Gabriel.  With full trust, no less.  That was the greatest gift of all and Gabriel would never betray that trust again.

A sudden howl pulled him back to reality.  Sam was giggling wildly, desperately rolling from side to side, only to be held still by the grace bonds.  Tears were forming at the edges of his shut eyes.

Gabe’s wings, of their own accord, had moved forward and the tips were moving up and down Sam’s naked torso.  They flexed and flared nervously, shivering as they caressed him.  Gabriel’s eyed widened.

_A mating display?_ Gabriel thought, thankful Sam was otherwise occupied so he couldn’t see the maiden’s blush on his cheeks.   

The feathered tips of each wing were brushing against Sam along his arms and sides, trying to coax him into grooming them.  Grooming was always the first step in angel courtship.  Allowing someone to handle the most vulnerable part of your grace was it was the ultimate show of trust.  Gabriel could feel his glands throbbing, ready to produce that sweet-smelling oil to help cement their bond.

Now it all made sense, Gabriel could’ve kicked himself for not thinking of this sooner.  The ache he was feeling was his wings getting ready for a mating molt.

_Oh Father…am I ready for this?_ Gabriel thought, panicked and embarrassed.

“No!  No fair!  Gahahahbe!” Sam cackled, giving in to his angel’s devilish torment.    

Sam couldn’t know about this. Not yet.  Gabriel needed more time to prepare.  Gabriel cleared his throat and affected his best nonchalant stance.

“You sorry for sassing me yet, Sam?” he asked, acting as if this part of the punishment and not his instincts getting the best of him.

“N-neehehehver!” Sam challenged, scrunching his head to his shoulder to block a particularly insistent tendril of grace.

Gabe chuckled, taking control of his wings and flicking the ends of his primaries along Sam’s biceps and close to his underarms causing Sam to giggle uncontrollably. 

He’d have to look through Heaven’s library when he got back, for a refresher on angelic mating customs.  For now, he was going to enjoy some quality time with his moose.


	2. Blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has a question to ask.

The crack of the iron club striking the creature’s head resounded through the moldy basement.  A ragged gash split the skull, oozing black goo.  It was knocked back onto the floor, dazed but still alive.  It got up to strike again, but was impaled through the chest with a silver sword. 

The thing’s screech drowned out the sizzle of its flesh as it burned on the holy silver.  After a minute, it was still.

“Ugly fucker,” Dean growled, bracing his boot on the things ruined head while he pulled the sword free.  He inspected the gore covered blade with a grimace.

Castiel stepped forward from a dank alcove from behind Dean.  He smiled briefly at Dean, always impressed by his work, then turned to address the, seemingly empty, basement.

“Who can tell me what sort of creature that was?” Castiel asked, his voice full of gravel and authority.  On cue, with a rustle of wings, five angels appeared in the basement. 

One angel, in the vessel of a young black man, raised his hand first.  Dean nodded to him, “Talk to me, Danny.”

Danariel smiled at his teacher.  “Oni, a type of Japanese demon.  Probably conjured by an untrained youth.”

“Wrong.  Nice try, Danny.  Anyone else?”

As Danariel cocked his head in confusion, another angel wearing an older woman as a vessel stepped up from behind and raised her hand.  Castiel nodded to her, “Yes, Tamar?”

“A Tibetan thought-form, a Tulpa.” Tamar said, eyeing the creature, now pooling black ichor at their feet.

Dean snapped his fingers, which echoed through the still basement, and pointed at her.  “Bingo, Tammy.  Now, show your work.  How’d you figure out it was a Tulpa?”

“During the interview with the first victim’s widow,” she began, fidgeting her hands, obviously not used to so much attention being paid to her, “She mentioned that her husband was a professor at the local university who that he taught Asian Art History.  There are different cultural artifacts in his home, including a Tibetan prayer scroll with the Tulpa symbol on it.  Based on the lucky charms, silver filings, and holy symbols scattered around the house, I deduced the professor was very superstitious.  Most likely, when he heard random noises in the night, probably the house settling, his imagination ran away and activated the Tulpa.  As he read more about demons and oni, it took that form and destroyed him.”

Tamar hopefully looked from Dean, then back to Castiel, seeming to shrink under their gazes.  She reminded Dean of a timid librarian, but he’d seen her take out an ogre to defend an elderly man.  He nodded at her, giving her a subtle wink of acknowledgment, and she smiled softly.

Castiel nodded as well, “Correct.  Very good, Tamar.  As we all know, innocent humans are fascinated with the supernatural, and as such, will often unknowingly invite it in.  Your job is to eradicate the threat, while protecting as much of the innocence of your charges as possible.”

“That’s right,” Dean added, stepping toward them brandishing the iron club that the not-Oni used on its victims, “You get in, you get out, and you save as many people as possible.  Now, Tammy, last question: why’d I hit him with his own stick?”

“It’s called a kanabo, Dean.” Castiel interjected and two of the other angels, in younger vessels, stifled titters. 

Dean rolled his eyes and shot his lover a glare.  Castiel’s face remained passive, but there was a smug amusement running through their profound bond.  Dean was going to enjoy taking him apart later.  “Why’d I hit him with his _kanabo_?”

“Oni who carry kanabo are said to be invincible,” she began, smiling as she spoke which lifted both Dean and Castiel’s spirits, “Using its own weapon upon it would break the illusion that the professor held of it being invincible.  It’s also the reason the silver was effective on it, if he was as superstitious as he seemed.  The combination seems to have neutralized the threat for now.”

“Good work, Tammy. Now to neutralize the threat permanently.” Dean crowed, pointing to the ancient silk tapestry on the far wall of the basement.

The assembled angels focused their attention to the tapestry.  Their eyes glowed with grace and the tapestry went up in flames.  The hideous, ruined thing at their feet disappeared without trace.  Dean sort of missed the club – _kanabo –_ and made a point of looking for one on his next trip to the weapons dealer.

“Good.  Very good.  I am proud of you all,” Castiel beamed, keeping his voice level but obviously pleased, “You are becoming fine hunters.”

The assembled squad kept their faces passive, except for Tamar, who couldn’t help grinning fondly.  Castiel was making a mental note to assign Danariel some extra research assignments, when there was a slow clapping from a shadowed corner of the basement.

Immediately, all six hunters readied their weapons as a short figure slid from behind a brick wall.  There was a snap of fingers and the basement lit up.  The angels immediately lowered their angel blades as Gabriel himself strode towards them.

The angels, aside from Cas, were nervous.  Since taking the helm of Heaven, the archangel had gained an even higher rank and nothing he did, not even the never-empty jar of jelly beans on his desk, seemed to make him more approachable.

“Good job, kids!  Damn good job.  Give yourselves a round of applause,” he smiled, conjuring himself a chocolate bar and settling between Tamar and Danariel.  The hunter angels stood straight at attention and began to politely clap.  Castiel and Dean stayed still, though Dean rolled his eyes at his pseudo-brother-in-law’s antics.

“Hello, Gabriel,” Castiel greeted with a respectful nod of his head, smiling gently at his older brother’s praise of his charges, “To what do we owe this surprise?”

Gabriel was quiet a moment, surveying the assembled angels.  They were all younger angels, pulled from various garrisons to become hunters.  Each one eyed him nervously, their graces shrinking away in fear of being this close to Heaven’s top dog.  They dropped their wings in total submission.

Well that just wouldn’t do.  Gabriel liked respect, but he hated to be feared by his brothers and sisters. He was many things, but was not a bully.  He chuckled softly and his six golden wings, visible the angels, rippled with pride.  The feathers puffed up, a silent display of trust and happiness.  The younger angels all visibly relaxed, their wings copying his actions. 

Castiel eyed his big brother’s wings, noticing a few patches of fluff among the smaller inside pair.  Was he molting?  His students either didn’t notice or didn’t understand what this could mean.  The seraphim tilted his head in confusions.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Gabriel began, rousing Castiel back to the conversation, “and thought I’d drop by.  Nice job with the Tulpa, by the way, kid.” Gabriel handed Tamar a candy bar which she just stared at, unsure of what to do; her wings were fluttering like a fledgling.

“Yeah right,” scoffed Dean, who moved to lean against the wall, “Somehow I don’t believe you scampered all the way down from upstairs to watch me take out a monster.”

“I dunno, Dean-o.  You are pretty dreamy when you go all alpha-male,” Gabriel teased.  “But if you must know, I need to talk to you and Cas.  Privately.” 

Castiel eyed Gabriel cautiously, sending curious pulse of grace privately to his big brother.  He received a cool, soothing pressure of Gabriel’s grace over his and a mental picture of a moose.  Castiel grinned his gummy grin.

Dean huffed half in amusement and half in exasperation.  He felt a fraction of the archangel’s grace through his and Castiel’s bond.  This was about Sammy, and that meant everything else was moot.   “Class dismissed,” Dean announced. 

With a soft rustle of wings, the hunter angels were gone.

Dean turned and stank-eyed Gabriel, “Alright, short stack.  Spill it.” 

Castiel shook his head at Dean’s brashness; sometimes Dean just didn’t have the sense Father gave a rock. He and Gabriel still shared a friendly animosity, even all these years later.  While Castiel was sure this was just their way of showing friendship, possibly the only way they knew how, it was annoying to have his mate and his brother constantly butting heads.

Gabriel looked at Dean with so much seriousness that Dean was taken aback, “Gabe, man, what is it?”

Gabriel took a deep, bracing breath.  His shoulders visibly relaxed when it was just the three of them.  He felt and looked so tired, he needed reassurance and these two were the only mated couple he could bear to be around.

“I want…to ask your blessing…or something.” Gabriel stammered.  His vessel felt incredibly warm suddenly, and his heart was beating faster than usual.  This is new, he thought.

Dean narrowed his eyes and sent an inquisitive jolt through his private connection to Castiel.

_Are his wings fuzzy?_

_Yes_ , came Castiel’s excited reply _. Finally!  I thought they would never mate._

_They said the same thing about us, Cas._

Dean smirked at Gabriel, who suddenly found his candy bar wrapper very interesting.  He looked up at Castiel briefly, as if asking to proceed,

Castiel nodded, his face remaining impassive as he recalled how Gabriel had teased him mercilessly during his mating molt.  As the fluffy down spreads, it encompasses the angel’s wings, loosening feathers which fall out and leave bald patches.  After the grace bonding, or in Castiel’s case the soul bonding, new feathers, the color of their mate’s, grow in.  Castiel’s once nebulous, midnight black plumage now had a reddish blonde tint to it, mimicking Dean’s hair. 

Gabriel was obviously here to “Do it right”, as Dean had done with him.  It was a strange human custom, but Gabriel let it go with only a small amount of teasing.  Castiel was going to enjoy teasing his big brother. 

“So,” Dean began, addressing Gabriel while walking around him in a circle with his hands behind his back, “Blessing for what, Gabe?”

Bastard, Gabriel thought.  His wings fluttered with embarrassment, sending fluffy down motes into the air.  Castiel chuckled at Gabriel’s predicament. 

“Cat got your tongue, brother?” Castiel quipped.  He jumped as Gabriel goosed him with a zap of his grace.

“Alright, alright,” Gabe sighed, putting his hands up in a conciliatory gesture, “I get it.  You both know why I’m here.  Oh, and by-the-by?  It’s super rude to have a private conversation when other people are in the room.”

“Play your cards right and you’ll be able to have that kind of conversation with Sam.”  Dean smirked, stopping in front of Gabriel and waggling his eyebrows salaciously.  At times like this, they were truly in their elements.

Gabriel stunned them both as a red tint spread over his face.  He cleared his throat to drown out their hyena-like cackling and steadied himself.  He would do this right for Sam. 

He focused his gaze on Dean and his voice rang with hope and authority, “Dean, I would like your blessing to court and mate with Sam.  I love him, I want to provide for him and spend the rest of eternity with him by my side.”

Dean’s expression softened.  Everyone who met them knew how Gabriel felt about Sam.  They had flourished together, they were good for one another, balancing each other out.  Dean knew Gabriel would mate Sam no matter what, but he was actually honored that Gabriel, the biggest and most powerful pain in the ass in the universe, took the time to honor their custom and ask him.

He sent a pulse of love out to Castiel, entwining his soul warmly around his mate’s grace, before pulling the pint-sized archangel into manly hug.

“You have my blessing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So based off the responses I got on here and on Tumblr, I decided to work more on this. Thanks for all the support. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homeward Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 1/11/18 - Slowly going through and updating/retweeking chapters of older stories to make future chapters make sense.

Sam, by all accounts, had a habit of staying too late at work.   It wasn’t uncommon for him to be the first to arrive at the office and be the one to lock up after everyone else left.  Today just wasn’t one of those days.

It’d been a hard week for the firm; the lead attorney lost a case on Monday and had been on the warpath all week.  Everyone on the payroll, from the other lawyers to the secretary, tried to keep their heads down.  They were all treading on eggshells, just praying to get to Friday unscathed.  Once his office clock chimed five, Sam snatched his briefcase and joined the small herd of people racing toward the weekend.

Safely behind the wheel of his Lexus, Sam let out a long sigh and began the drive home.  Instantly he felt the tension of the week melt away.  He had a weekend full of mundane, domestic tasks waiting for him and he was grateful.  He turned on the radio and a dimpled grin split his face when he heard the first chord.  As if someone was looking out for him (and he knew there was), Asia boomed through his speakers.  It was just what he needed right now, and he began to sing along, “It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant.  The heat of the moment shone in your eyes.”

He sang and remembered how he loathed that song once, how it induced a leaden dread in his gut as soon as her heard the first riff of the guitar.  It took months for Sam to be able to hear the song without a bubbling nausea rising in his throat, and it took longer for him to understand the message _someone_ was trying to send. 

That song that once woke Sam each morning when he was subjected to a fratricidal Groundhog Day was Gabriel trying to convey how he regretted the lesson he was trying to teach.  He didn’t want the apocalypse to happen, he didn’t want his brothers to kill one another, and he didn’t want to see his two favorite humans torn apart.  Out of desperation, the archangel set toteaching Sam a lesson to hopefully circumvent everything.  For all Gabriel’s hedonism and bravado, he hated hurting Sam.  Gabriel was a proud angel and still couldn’t allow himself the weakness of admitting this to anyone yet, so the song was the only way he could show his regret.  He tried to offer Sam what little comfort he could during the harsh lesson. 

In the end, of course, Sam’s puppy eyes won the day, and everything went to hell anyway.  There was so much darkness that, at times, Sam was sure there was nothing any of them could do to help.  Then Gabriel came back.  He was bloodied and broken, but it was Gabriel.  Once he was healed, he was there at their side, fighting his own brothers to help fix their mess and they succeeded. 

When the dust settled, the angels were left without Michael’s firm hand and looked to him for leadership.  Gabriel took the reins, but never abandoned his new family. 

Soon after, he and Sam started spending more “quality time” together.  Then Gabriel explained to Sam what the song was meant to communicate.  He couldn’t believe he’d never noticed it before.  Underneath all his bad decisions and tough exterior, Gabriel had a big heart. 

They tumbled into love and Sam finally got what he wanted all along: an apple pie life.  And yes, that life was shared with his lover, the new overseer of Heaven, the Archangel Gabriel; and he still had his big brother in his life, a supernatural hunter imbued with the powers of Heaven; and of course, there was Castiel, his dear friend and brother’s angelic mate. His apple pie life was a la mode. 

He enjoyed the smooth rhythm of the backroads as he drove home.  The air was moist with the crisp taste of autumn beginning to chill the air.  Soon the leaves would change, and then there would be holidays and family gathered together with songs and stories and bickering and always, always the undercurrent of affection.  He made a mental note to call Dean later to ask if they wanted to do Thanksgiving at their house or the Bunker this year.  Either way, Gabe would probably be bringing a dessert big enough for an army.

He turned down the radio and sent a quick prayer to Gabriel, letting him know he was on the way home. 

“Hey, O heavenly shithead.  Heading home, going to throw together a quick lasagna and, if I have company, I’ll bake up that blueberry pie from the freezer.  You free tonight?”

He waited a moment, but there was no reply.  Normally when Sam prayed aloud, he’d receive a call or text message, or hear the sudden rustling of wings.  Curious, Sam tried again, this time sending a little more urgency into his prayer.

“Gabe?”

Still no response.  Sam kept his cool, it wasn’t often that Gabriel couldn’t return his calls right away (time works different in Heaven, apparently), but it wasn’t unheard of.  He silenced the dark thoughts that threatened to encroach on his happiness by turning the radio back on. 

Bon Jovi started singing about Tommy and his job on the docks as Sam passed the welcome sign for the town he lived in.  Gabriel must be busy.

Gabriel sat behind a stack of ancient tomes and scrolls in his private study in Heaven.  He had research to do and little time to do it.

Before him on his table was every book and scroll he could find on angelic mating practices.  The cherubs in the library tittered at him and his molting wings as they helped him retrieve the books, but he tried to shrug it off with jokes.  He was thankful that the cherubs weren’t as afraid of him as the other angels seemed to be.

He scrawled out some notes on a legal pad while scratching absently at a downy patch on his uppermost left wing.  All these books said the same thing, that the merging of grace to a soul would bind the angel and human for eternity.  The human’s soul became an extension of the angel’s grace, granting them a sliver of the angel’s power and the angel a better insight into humanity.  They would share thoughts, experiences, memories, and dreams.  That was all well and good, but there were no mating customs listed in any of these books.  Like most angelic things, it all seemed too sterile.  An angel found a human they liked, and they bonded.  No pomp, no romance, not even a lousy cake? 

“Fuck that,” Gabriel dismissed, waving some airborne down away from his face.

Sam was special and deserved the best, but he didn’t have the slightest idea how to make the single biggest decision of Sam’s life perfect.  This wasn’t a regular marriage; there would be no ‘til death do you part, because once Sam died, they would still be together forever.

That is, if Sam said yes.  What if he didn’t want this?  Would Sam break if off with him?  The fear began to swell in Gabriel’s chest, causing his wings to flutter and a squall of feathers and fluff to soar into the air.  He could deal with Sam saying no, but what if he saw this as Gabriel attempting what Lucifer had?

Something tweaked at his grace.  A prayer.  He felt Sam as a warm tingling wave through his grace, hearing every word spoken to him with every part of his celestial body.  The air was filled with floating down as Gabriel’s wings twitched, half in nervousness and half in eagerness. 

 _My mate is calling for me_ , his hindbrain supplied _._

Gabriel looked to the ornate grandfather clock in the corner of his office, the one always set to current “Sam Time”.  It was only a quarter after five and Sam was already heading home?  Crap!  Any other day, Gabriel would have at least another hour to plan. 

He concentrated more on Sam’s prayer, letting that warm feeling wash over and soothe him and…oh berry pie sounded amazing right now.  If all went well, after tonight he’d get to savor that warmth mingling with his grace for all eternity.  The pie was just a nice addition.

Every muscle he had was tense, and his temples throbbed, but he didn’t use his power to make himself feel better.  He chose to feel the dull pain and his anxiety’s effect on his body.  Since he left Heaven the first time, Gabriel had existed almost entirely in a physical body.  In the beginning, it was mostly to fit in among the Pagans.  Now that he was with Sam, he made a few alterations to his vessel, effectively making himself more human.  Even now, after his return to Heaven, he chose to walk around in a modified version of his vessel rather than his true form (In Heaven he just looked like his vessel with a halo and six giant wings). 

Gabriel took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down.  He stretched his sore shoulders above his head, and extended all six of his wings until the tips of their feathers nearly touched the walls.  With a snap, a large mirror appeared before him, which he used to assess the damage.  He smirked.  Even during a molt, they were still impressive; silken, proud feathers shining like polished gold.  He puffed and preened, some base part of his brain whispering that his intended would be suitably impressed by his plumage.  Even with the small bald patches with protective down along the flesh.  New feathers would grow soon, and he pictured gorgeous chestnut feathers mingling in perfectly with his gold. 

That thought cinched it, it was now or never.  He rose, pacing to a sideboard and picking up a black box in both hands. It wasn’t much, but he hoped it was a suitable token. 

“Showtime,” Gabriel muttered.  With one massive flap, he took off for Earth.

Even with feathers missing, Gabriel was still Heaven’s fastest flier.  He appeared in the small house he shared with Sam while Sam was still driving home.  He guessed he only had about ten minutes to wait until Sam was pulling into the garage, so he let out a breath and sat on the sofa.  Nothing to do now but wait.

His hands ran over the smooth exterior of the box, taking some small tactile comfort in the motion. He sent a small prayer to his Father, wherever he was, that his mate would not reject him. 


	4. I'm Baaaaaaaack

Holy crap it's been a hard year.   
I'm back and writing. Over the next couple weeks I'll be revising the existing chapters of my fics and adding new ones.  
The first installment, a revised and expanded first chapter of this fic has been added. 

 

Thanks for sticking with me, if you still have.

Enjoy.


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